


Dissonance

by Nariko



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, ereri, rivaeri, springles - Freeform, symphony au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nariko/pseuds/Nariko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cellist Eren Jaeger finally manages to get into the Freedom Symphony, one of the most elite symphonies in the nation. But what will happen when he unwittingly catches the cold eye of the weirdly pretty male concert master?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Un

**Author's Note:**

> So uh, here is my first contribution to the SNK fandom. 'Sup fandom.  
> I've had this idea brewing in my mind for a while now, ever since I saw the drawings going around tumblr of Levi playing a violin (left handed? Not possible but it was gorgeous so I recovered quickly) Rating may change with time.  
> Anyhoooo, for those of you that don't know, just so the story is a little clearer, the concert master is always the first chair violinist of the first violins section. They usually get paid more too lol, cuz they have the responsibility of basically representing the whole orchestra, blah blah blah.  
> A professional symphony also needs someone who can act as their artistic director and financial advisor. Most large symphonies have these spots run by different people, but the Freedom Symphony is a rather small one, so Hanji is in charge of both, and the concert pianist when they need it.

“Oh my god.” I stared at the acceptance letter in my hands in disbelief. Could it really…? 

_Eren Jaeger, I am proud to announce that you have been accepted into the Freedom Symphony. Your stellar performance during last week’s auditions blew the judges away, and I am happy to accept you as one of our own. You should have received an email regarding our latest schedule. Please be sure to be ready for the next chair try-outs that are next week, the 29th of November. I shall see you soon in rehearsal— Congratulations, Erwin Smith Conductor_

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding as I let the letter fall from my hands, then quickly picked it back up off the cement landing of my apartment. I stuffed it messily into my back pocket and stumbled inside, not even closing the metal door behind me, and searched my duffel bag for my cell phone. If I got in, Mikasa and Armin had to have made it as well—Mikasa was an amazing violinist, and Armin had been playing the flute since he could read. I finally managed to dial Mikasa’s number and brought the phone to my ear, letting my bag drop to the floor in front of the open door as I walked to the small alcove which was my kitchen, grabbing a glass from one of the cabinets. I started talking as soon as I heard the click on the other end of the line, forgetting why I had a cup in my hand in the first place.

“Mikasa? I got in, I made it! Oh my god finally! I didn’t think I’d make it, I was so nervous I thought they’d surely notice my shaking. Fuck this is incredible.” There was a pause as I caught my breath, but Mikasa filled it with her quiet giggle. “Glad you made it Eren. I did too of course; there’s no way I would not get in if you did.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was just playful banter; she was my sister after all. Not by blood, but it might as well have been. She’s been with my family for as long as I can remember. In between the insults and laughter Mikasa managed to let me know that Armin had made it as well; I had no doubts about that though. I finally let her go and filled my cup with water; Jesus I held on to that thing with a death grip like there was no tomorrow for like twenty minutes. I wandered past the door again to get to my little living room and had the presence of mind to close the door this time, and settled on to my cheap hand-me-down couch with my laptop to check my emails, setting the glass on the little black coffee table in front of me. Sure enough, there it was;

_FW: FS Rehearsals Hello everyone. The calendar for this week is attached to this message, or at least it should be. I’ve been getting a lot of complaints about me not knowing how to send attachments—yes Levi, I know I am bad with computers, but I assure you I did it right this time._

I chuckled a bit and clicked on the attachment to have a calendar pull up on my screen. I sent it to the printer and pulled the original message back up to read the rest.

_First rehearsal since the auditions to replace the people we lost this year is tomorrow at 9 am sharp. I expect you all to be on stage and ready to go by then. No one has assigned chairs yet obviously, except concertmaster, so sit wherever you like for now. Levi, I implore you, BE NICE. -E.S._

My interest piqued at the last bit; who was this Levi person? I made a note to myself to perhaps stay away from him. I closed my laptop and downed my glass of water, setting the now empty cup back on the table to get up and grab the newly printed calendar for this week. A little note was at the top in bold: Don’t forget chair try-outs next week, Nov. 26th I pulled out my phone again and typed the date in to remind me. Today was Sunday, the 17th. So the try-outs were next Tuesday. Looking at the calendar, we would receive our sheet music tomorrow, and have rehearsal every day except Sunday. I wondered when our next concert was; Thanksgiving was two days after that, and we supposedly had the 28th through the 1st off. The only holiday after that was Christmas. I had heard of the famous Christmas concerts performed by the Freedom Symphony; I had the honor of going to one when I was just a little boy. They were a smaller orchestra by then, and hadn’t had nearly the amount of publicity that they got now, and they were holding a concert honoring the works of Tchaikovsky. The performance was breathtaking; they played the entire Nutcracker suite beautifully. It was that performance that inspired me to join my elementary school orchestra. But I will never forget the concertmaster back then. He was just a boy, probably thirteen or fourteen, with shocking black hair and glaring eyes that seemed to want to kill whatever poor soul stared back, but I had never heard something so beautiful come from such a small being playing such an equally small piece of wood. He had played the Pas de deux violin solo from Tchaikovsky`s Swan Lake, “Black Swan.”

And that was when I fell in love with music. I wanted so much to play like him, somehow. So I had made it my resolve to beat anyone who came in my way to join the same orchestra as him, with my own music. But that was a long time ago. There was no way that guy was still in FS…he was too good. He had to have some contract now that let him travel the world with the talent he had. I guessed him to be in his late twenties by now…and I was twenty-one. No way would a guy with his talent stay in the FS for that long.

No way. 

(눈_눈)

I pulled into the parking lot of the local theater early Monday morning at eight-thirty, proud of myself for waking up on time to get there. My appearance was casual, just jeans and a black loose long-sleeved shirt, my subtle combat boots and my dark green military jacket. I heaved my cello out from my backseat and slung it over my shoulder with the strap, slamming the door afterward, then headed through the double doors inside. The theater wasn't empty when I walked in. Different cases rested on the seats of the house where the audience would usually sit, people filing in between them, carrying clarinets, violas; I spotted a short blond girl lugging a bass twice her size down the aisle toward the stage. She made it look so light; her face showed a bored expression as she climbed the five or six steps to the bass section, a tall man with dark brown, short shaggy hair smiled at her warmly when she laid her bass down behind her stool. I then realized with a start that she was sitting in the first chair. I figured that there weren't that many new people this go-around. Almost everyone seemed to know where they were going or sitting for the day, and they seemed comfortable with each other. 

That was when I noticed a mop of blond hair weaving nervously through the flute section. “Armin!” I called from the house, and his head perked up immediately, turning toward my voice. He spotted me and his eyes lit up, and he set his flute carefully down on the last chair and made his way toward the end of the stage to wait for me. I picked a relatively empty row of seats and laid my cello case across a few of them to get my cello out, rosined my bow quickly, then met him on the stage. I dismissed the violin case that was dwarfed to my cello case sitting idly underneath the seats I chose. Armin greeted me with a pat on my back.

“I’m surprised you woke up on time! I was considering stopping by your apartment to make sure you got up, but I had some errands to run this morning…” I mocked being hurt by his statement. “You have no faith in me…”

“I don’t.” His deadpan response had us both laughing, and then Mikasa came up from behind him with her usual emotionless face.

“Hey sis,” I greeted casually, and her lips twitched up in a smirk. “Can’t believe you’re actually here on time,” she said playfully. “You guys are both assholes.” “But you love us.” At the corner of my eye I saw a tall blond man enter stage right, and I gasped at the short man following close behind him, his violin in his arms so dark, it seemed almost black, and so familiar, and it glinted in the light the stage lights cast.

It was him. 

(눈_눈)


	2. Deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimpse of backstory whoo hooo

_Sunday, the 17th. Day before the first rehearsal._

“Erwin, I don’t appreciate you mentioning me specifically in your fucking emails. Along with your shitty technology skills it makes people think I’m an asshole.”

“You are an asshole, Rivaille.”

The short man visibly bristled. “Don’t call me that. It’s Levi, okay? Levi. Call me by Rivaille again and I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass you can taste it.”

The blond man sitting on the opposite end of the couch chuckled. They were in Levi’s apartment; Erwin had stopped by for some tea like he always did on Sundays. Levi didn’t know why he put up with him so often; he supposed it had to do with Erwin mentioning how delicious Levi’s tea supposedly was.

“You have magic in those hands of yours,” he had said a while back.

There was no harm in having your ego stroked every so often.

Erwin had always said things like that; ever since Levi was a child, when he first met him. Levi had been out on the streets, stealing and working odd jobs for food, when Erwin found him. Erwin had been a mere street performer back then, playing his violin for tips at the local park. Levi saw him and therefore saw the opportunity to make money; Erwin had caught him trying to make off with his violin. Instead of turning him in to the police, Erwin kept him at his side. He was nineteen at the time; saving up money to go to college he said, to study music of course. Levi didn’t know what to make of him, but for once, he had a bed to sleep on, and meals every day, and not only that, he had safety.

He didn’t speak to Erwin for weeks after he took him in, not even telling him his name. Levi felt that silence was safest way to learn your surroundings, but Erwin had no problem with it. He would play, and Levi would watch, and listen. And Erwin noticed something growing in those cold and lifeless eyes.

“Rivaille?”

The old name brought him out of his thoughts to snap _“Get out of my apartment,”_ to Erwin, who laughed and held up his hands in mock apology.

“Sorry sorry, don’t be so stingy. I’ve been talking for a while now and you didn’t seem to be listening.” Levi blinked. “Oh.”

He settled back into the couch again, his tea cup drained. He didn’t even remember drinking it. Erwin raised a brow at him before continuing on with what Levi had missed completely, holding up a bunch of papers in one hand and setting down his also-empty tea cup on the coffee table.

“Now, considering that you scared off your last stand partner, I have a list of potential candidates that I wanted you to keep an eye on. I know that the chair placements aren’t until next week but I want you to watch how they progress. That will also add in to their ultimate score in the end.” Levi groaned but nodded. “I have one girl who I am positive has the potential, but we’ll see soon. Her name is Mikasa Ackerman.”

Levi took the profile from Erwin and looked it over. Excellent scores on the audition, excellent resume…hell, this girl would give Levi a run for his money. And the solo piece she decided to play for the audition was… “Winter” from Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons,” the same piece he played for Erwin when he auditioned for concertmaster so long ago. Yes, he thought he could learn to like this girl. Maybe. Levi hardly gave a second glance to the other profiles as his attention span was waning; he wanted to play. When Levi’s constant obvious vibrato on his knee and snarky remarks finally annoyed Erwin enough, he shooed him out of his apartment, his fingers itching to play. He didn’t care what; he just needed to make music. Make any kind of sound he could come out of his instrument, the only thing he could possibly think of as an extension of himself, the one thing that could weave his emotions into something anyone could understand— Music.

(눈_눈)

_Monday, the 18th, on stage in the theater._

Mikasa elbowed me roughly in the ribs to bring me out of my reverie and to my senses to start towards my section. I waved at her weakly and turned to the large group of cellos, trying to spot an empty seat. I made a note to myself to get here earlier so that I wouldn’t have to hunt for a seat like this next time. There was only one seat left; the first chair. I gulped. Only douchebags sat there the first day. But there were no seats left…and frankly, the guy sitting in second chair looked decent enough. But strangely familiar…

Waaaaait a minute. That couldn’t be…could it?

Oh god, it _was_.

Jean Kirchstein sat in second chair, smirking at me. He had recognized me immediately. He patted the empty first chair openly, grin pointing directly at me, and I groaned loudly and closed the distance.

“’sup, Jaeger. I swear I didn’t try out for FS just to spite you. Let’s be pals, k?” He held out a hand for me to shake, and I took it hesitantly, not believing a word he said. Jean had been with me since middle school, and we were always competing for chairs. But I had never had the misery of sharing a stand with him. Ugh. I sat down nonetheless, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the rest of the section, and faced forward, watching Erwin take his place at the front of the orchestra. The short man I had seen earlier, the main fucking reason I had joined this orchestra in the first place, sat quietly in the first chair of the first violins. A short blond girl sat next to him, throwing nervous glances his way. Mikasa sat directly behind him, next to a buff blond boy who kept making funny faces at what I assumed was that first chair bass girl. I turned around awkwardly to see if she was reacting at all; she wasn’t.

“Welcome to our first rehearsal everyone,” Erwin greeted warmly. “As you can see, the sheet music is already on your stands. Feel free to make copies tonight after rehearsal. Please remember that your seating arrangement is not permanent—“ “Thank god,” I muttered. Jean scoffed. “—so don’t get too comfortable. Our first concert is our annual Christmas concert in New York at the Howard Gilman Opera House, and we will be doing the Nutcracker for ABT to perform while we are playing.”

Gasps of delight went through the orchestra. I had never heard of FS playing for a live performance by ABT; let alone for ABT to be letting a traveling orchestra like ours (I relished the thought of saying “ours”) play for them. This was quite an honor.

“I want us to focus on the technical stuff now; there are certain bow techniques that are really Tchaikovsky, and I want to nail them on the head. As such, your chair try-outs next week will be focused largely on how well you interpret the parts I pick out for the audition.” I smiled giddily to myself; the first performance I had ever seen FS play was the Nutcracker, and now my first performance with them was just that, but better. Not to sound too cliché or anything, but needless to say, this was a dream come true. I just needed to practice. Erwin cleared his throat to stop the quiet chatter that had begun after his last statement. When the talking had ceased, he continued.

“Now for introductions. As you know, I am Erwin Smith, your conductor. I hope we can have fun together. My fiancé, Hanji Zoe, is our financial and artistic director, and our pianist when we need it.” A woman with messy brown hair tied into a ponytail and glasses stepped onto the podium beside him, her engagement ring catching in the stage lights and reflecting off her glasses almost maniacally.

“Hey everyone, you can just call me Hanji. Without me believe it or not, this whole shindig would go bankrupt, so you kiddies better appreciate me,” she finished with a wink, kissed Erwin chastely on the cheek, then stepped off the podium, ruffling the concertmaster’s hair as she passed him, earning her a whack on the head with his bow. Erwin then gestured to him.

“And this is Levi, your concertmaster. He is here to help you in any way you can and give you advice, and he deserves the utmost respect. As such, he will hopefully return the favor,” No one seemed to notice Erwin’s hidden meaning, but I did see a glint of bored yeah right’s in the eyes of the veterans. I looked back at Levi and saw the icy glare he shot up at Erwin—and this is when I noticed how short he was, I mean, he was shorter than me, shit—but I also felt that I didn’t want to be on the other end of that glare. I swear, if looks could kill…damn. Erwin then gestured to the woman sitting as the first chair viola, and made a motion with his hand for her to stand up. She was rather tall and wore a bored expression, freckles peppered on her cheeks and nose.

“This is Ymir, first chair viola. Any violists in need of guidance, you are welcome to go to her.” She sat back down and Erwin turned towards the bass section behind me. “And they are first and second chair bassists Annie and Bertholdt. Basses, you know what to do.”

From that statement I gathered that no new bassists had joined the orchestra. The short girl, Annie, didn’t even blink, and Bertholdt waved nervously beside her. Such contradicting personalities at one stand. Erwin went on with other introductions, most of which I forgot the moment he moved on to the next one, and soon enough he pulled out his baton from his sleeve and we began sight reading the pieces. For the most part the cello part was easy enough for me to get through the first few songs we played before lunch (the Nutcracker is a long sonofabitch) without many mistakes, and I was confident that with practice I could improve greatly for the chair auditions next week. Jean did equally as well; despite our rivalry, I hated to admit that we played well together. It made me sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to update soon. I hope you're enjoying this story guy, don't hesitate to ask questions and stuff, or shoot ideas at me!

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaaaaaa there you go. Please let me know if you find any mistakes! This is also posted on my fic tumblr, shittyshitshitstack.tumblr.com


End file.
